Those Who Belonged to Freedom ENG Version
by Anasu
Summary: Romance/Drama/Humor. English translation of "Ceux épris de Liberté FR Version".A story told alternately through the eyes of Belgium, Netherlands and sometimes other characters. M for safety. Couples to come and a better summary at the end of the fiction!
1. Sketches of the childhood

**Disclaimer : **I do not own Hetalia. All copyright go to their respective owners.  
**Author's notes : **The first english translated chapter of the fiction "Ceux épris de Liberté" ! English is not my mother tongue, I swear I did my best with the translation ! Please don't hit me if it's bad x_x  
Anyway enjoy your reading ! See you at the bottom of the page for some side notes ! ~**

* * *

Louise's POV**

My name is Louise Verheyen. You may have never heard my name or noticed me before. I'm not the kind of girl who has a striking appearance ; blond and smooth hair sometimes tied with a ribbon, emerald green eyes, a small height, in a word, I'm extremely ordinary.  
I'm a moody and capricious child, a pest who uses thousands of tricks and it has been a long time since the pastries have no more secrets for me.

We are five in my family ; my brothers, my parents and me. At least, we _were _would be more accurate.  
We lived an easygoing life away from the wars, comfortably accommodated in our cloistered countryside. We based most of our needs on the agriculture of our products and our financial incomes on the trades we made with foreign countries. We rose and went to sleep with the chickens, our days were spent inside the farm or harvesting, and sometimes, my big brother and I discreetly avoided our chores to play in the hay.  
It was a sweet existence deluded with clearness and carefree attitude. Of course, there were sometimes shadow zones due to either a drop of our harvests or the local bad weather, but most of the time it was my quarrels with Anthonij that made the farm to shake from all over its walls ;

* * *

_-Mummy ! Netherlands stole my ribbon again ! I whined.  
-Didn't ! Ya are the one who lost it in the hay ! he retorted.  
-How can you be so sure ? I said.  
-'Cause ya are Belgium, and ya aren't smarter than a broomstick, natuurlijk ! he said, proudly folding his arms on his stick out chest, insisting on that last word as to make obvious the fact I was being silly. But I knew for sure he was the thief.  
-Mummy ! I cried out, feeling defenseless. The weary voice of my mother coming from the kitchen sang a "be nice to each other" as a response and soon, Netherlands showed me his tongue, waving my ribbon in his hands.  
In the end, the quarrel was always sorted out the same way ; when Anthonij couldn't bear my little sister's tears anymore, he gave me what was mine back and kissed me on the cheek in gage of apology before leaving to take care of our little brother, Luxembourg.  


* * *

_

We never missed anything. My childhood had been so ideal that she was nearly utopian. But in every world, there must be a balance. Bring a certain amount of happiness and you can be sure you'll get the same quantity of sorrow – whether you want it, or not -. This moment, this fall, this twist at the corner of my life, I review it every two nights. I then emerge from a nightmare which last sensations still make me shivering and trembling from the fever, and with my dreadful scream, I pierce the night.

**Anthonij's POV**

I woke up with a start at my sister's scream. My eyes got slowly used to the surrounding darkness of the room before I finally distinguished her clearly. Her face was viewed from the side, her mouth, half-opened from which a panting breath escaped and many of her hair were stuck to the skin of her neck, soaked with sweat ; it didn't take me a long time to come up with the conclusion she had dreamt of our childhood. I sighed and proceeded as usual when she had her every two-nights-nightmares since she had turned nine.

-_Nog_ ?  
-Yes, she replied.

A silence fell. But I had predicted it ; she's always needed a certain number of minutes to pass to speak again. I sighed while standing beside her in the bed.

-Louise. Get back to sleep.

She looked at me, her green eyes shining with the ray of dawn that was rising through the only curtain-less window. It would be a beautiful day today.  
Soon, she'll ask me her question.

-Anthonij, I don't understand. How come you remain so calm ? How come _that _night doesn't haunt you ?

Her eyes were lost in her incomprehension. And I knew only one way to make her find an escape to it.

-I think about it every night, I lied, I have nightmares every hour. I miss _Vader en Moeder _a lot, _en Luxemburg ook_, but…

I made a pause. I had to.

-_Mais _? she said when the silence has been long enough.  
-It was ten years ago. It's more than time to get on with life, I said firmly, lots of things have changed since then.

And I forced her to go back to sleep by grabbing and pushing down one of her shoulders. She won't protest. Then she'll fall asleep again, rest easy, and when she'll wake up at Antonio's call, she will have forgotten all about our conversation, and the same story will repeat itself in two nights. I had connected this behavior to the trauma the deaths of both our parents and little brother had surely caused her. She was only nine, and I had just turned twelve. I don't remember the exact age of _Luxemburg _, but he was just a toddler.  
I lied down again and closed my eyes. Ten years had passed since then and I still couldn't forget that night. I didn't review it as intensively as my sister did, but I hadn't forgotten. I'll probably never will.

* * *

_It was a particularly cold month of December and the snow was covering every piece of earth visible. It was past midnight. Vader en Moeder had just gone to bed. The walls of our farm were thins and our rooms – the on__e of our parents, and the one for the children- were side by side, which permitted us to hear exactly the moment where, letting go of their tired body on the hard and inhospitable bed, our parents fell asleep, huddled up together to keep themselves warm.  
The farm was never quiet. Between the complaint of the bed which the laths creak under the weight of the body who's moving, the North wind which makes the roof shake, the moo of a cow in the barn, and my little sister and brother's deep breaths in our bed, there was rarely a favorable instant to doze off peacefully.  
Nevertheless, I knew all about these familiar noises and I had never felt any difficulties falling asleep with them. I had no clue why I was still awake at this hour and was sure I'd be exhausted when our parents would come to wake us up at six in the morning.  
Then there had been voices.  
I had believed myself to be daydreaming when, listening more attentively, I had heard nothing more than the gentle puff of the wind on the roof. But those voices had come back, and they were soon followed by a clear gunshot in the distance. I had quickly stood up, grimacing from the cold touch my bare feet got on the floor, and had heaved myself up on my tiptoes to see what was going outside through the window. I had a sight from the front of the farm. There were fresh footprints in the snow which stopped under the porch. I had screwed up my eyes trying to distinguish to whom they belonged to, but without success.  
A stranger stood there, in the middle of the night, in the death-freezing cold. Suddenly, I had heard him talk ; I had then increased my attention and, eyes wide opened by the surprise ,I had rushed into my parents' room to find out it was empty. I hadn't heard them go down though ! Another gunshot made me screamed. I had got back to my room and had thrown myself at my little sister, shaking her._

_-Louise ! Sta op ! Sta op !_

_She had eventually opened her eyes. I had forced her to stand up, all sleepy that she was, and had gone back to the window. Moeder was outside, her body bended by the cold, holding an oil lamp. Its light brightened the stranger's waist and chest. He wore beautiful clothes with rare ornaments and certainly very expensive. A glint had caught my attention, I had screwed up my eyes before gasping, horrified :_

_-A gun !_

_And that was only at that moment that I had seen the crimson stain spreading in the snow. My mother's tears whose face was torn with sadness. The feet of a dead body lying next to her. It only could be Vader. And the crimson liquid, his blood. I had frozen from head to toes as I realized what was going on._

_-Broertje ! What was that ?_

_Louise had shaken my arm. I had remained apathetic, staring into space. My brain had stopped thinking. It was as if I could barely breathe. Vader en Moeder had been killed by that stranger.  
I had turned to my little sister, heart pounding and eyes wide opened._

_-Vader en Moeder zijn dood…I had whispered.  
-Wat ? she had answered, scared._

_The door of our room had been suddenly opened, making us both jump a meter in the cold air. Louise had hidden behind my back while I was watching the armed stranger with the greatest apprehension._

_-Netherlands and Belgium ? he had asked with an accent which wasn't from our country._

_I had acquiesced. He had come nearer, inspecting the room before saying :_

_-Where's Luxembourg ?_

_Louise had then done the stupidest thing that needed to be done in that kind of situation ; she had run to the bed, had clumsily taken our little brother and had hold him close to her chest.  
The stranger had stepped in her direction, while she stepped back._

_-Damisela, give me the child, he had ordered.  
-No ! she had bravely – but vainly – yelled._

_She had ended up against the wall and trapped in a corner of the room. The stranger had stopped near her, a hand held towards our brother, another not far away from his gun._

_-Damisela, he had insisted, taking a threatening step forward._

_Screaming, I had thrown myself on his weapon, trying to steal it away from him by pulling frenetically on it. In an incredible gesture of violence, the stranger had delivered me a sharp cross blow on the forehead which had made me fall. I had started bleeding and felt dizzy._

_-Perdón, I didn't want to go that far, he had grumbled._

_He had then taken Luxemburg from my sister. Louise was paralyzed and had let herself slip down from the wall to the ground. The stranger had sighed while rubbing our little brother's cheek with his finger. That had made me sick._

_-This one is dead, he had said._

_He had then walked to our bed, delicately placing Luxemburg on it and covering him with sheets, lack of a shroud. He had whispered a "Qué tristeza la muerte súbita del bebé" before standing again and watching closely my whining sister and me, with my bleeding forehead. He had said :_

_-I'm Antonio Fernandez Carriedo. From now on, you are under Spanish rule.  


* * *

_

**Antonio's POV**

I slowly opened the door of Belgium and Netherlands's room. It was ten 'o'clock and I needed Anthonij in the tomatoes fields.

-¡Holaaaaa~ !

A pillow flew right at me, I managed to dodge it just in time and was happy to have such good reflexes when I heard it _crush _on the floor. I eyed contact with Anthonij's green eyes. He was standing in his bed, swearing in Dutch. No doubts he had sent me one of his "tricked pillows" filled with bricks.

-Anthonij, I need you in the tomatoes fields.

The fair-haired young man cursed more in his language but eventually stand up. He took the strings of his pajama and started to undo them. Holding the sides of it, he then turned his head to me :

-Are ya gonna stay there oglin' me for a long time ? he muttered.

I raised my eyebrows then started to smile.

-_¡Por supuesto que no! _I exclaimed.

I then noticed the empty place beside Anthonij in the bed.

-Where's Louise ? I asked softly.  
-_Weet niet_, certainly hangin' around with that Lovino Vargas.  
-Ah ! _Bueno_. If you see her, tell her I'm looking for her.  
-_En waarom _?

There was a bit of a threat in his question. I smiled to him and said, my tone willing to be reassuring :

-I need her to cook the pastries I'm serving tonight.  
-What's goin' on tonight ?  
-A small party with friends. Francis, Feliciano and Ludwig are invited. I had told you about this.

I turned around, ready to leave.

-If, during the evening, you and your sister would like to join in… I started.  
-_Nee_, he cut me short.

I shrugged and left to meet Lovino. I was somewhat surprised when I found him alone.

-_¡Hola Lovino! ¿Cómo esta?_

The boy was resting in the shade of an orange tree. And by the bitter look he gave me, I guessed I had interrupted his _siesta_.

-You bastard ! he yelled, didn't you see I was sleeping ?  
-_Sí, sí_, but I wanted to ask you … Have you seen Belgium ?

The Italian raised an eyebrow.

-Louise ? No, not since this morning. I was surprised she had got up that early.

I scratched my chin thoughtfully.

-That's not like her to disappear like that. It's not good…  
-Heh ? What's with that stupid worrying bastard face you're making ? Louise is big enough to manage all by herself dammit !  
-_Sí, pero_ …  
-_No "ma" _! If she's out, she'll come back. And now, let me sleep dammit !

He turned his back on me and lied against the bark of the tree.

-Lovino, I called. He turned around all of a sudden.  
-_Santa Madre di Dio ! _What the hell do you want again ?  
-Shouldn't have you been in the tomatoes fields an hour ago ? I asked nervously .

It wasn't rare that my sweet Lovino swears, but when he did it in Italian, it was only because he had to be particularly irritated. And indeed, he stood up, came up to me with a threatening look and stuck his foot right into my ass while screaming :

-_Dopo un sonnellino _!

* * *

Vocabulary :

• Dutch

**Natuurlijk **: Naturally / Of course**  
Nog ? **: Again ?  
**Sta op ! **: Stand up !**  
Vader en Moeder **: Father and Mother**  
Luxemburg **: Luxembourg**  
Ook **: Also / Too**  
Broertje **: Brother**  
Vader en Moeder zijn dood **: Father and Mother are dead**  
Wat **: What ?**  
Weet niet **: Dunno**  
En waarom ? **: And why ?_  
_**Nee **: No

• French

**Mais ? **: But ?

• Spanish :

**Damisela **: Young lady**  
Perdón **: Excuse me / Sorry  
**Bueno **: Good  
**¡Hola ! **: Hello ! / Good morning !  
**¡Por supuesto que no! **: Of course not !**  
¿Cómo esta? **: How are you ?**  
Siesta **: Nap**  
Sí **: Yes**  
Pero **: But  
**Qué tristeza la muerte súbita del bebé**: How sad the crib death

• Italian

**No "ma"**: No "buts"  
**Santa Madre di Dio**: Holy Mother of God _  
_**Dopo un sonnellino**: After the nap.

Side notes :

Belgium is a country that can speak Dutch as well as French.  
Anthonij Van de Velde and Louise Verheyen are not the human names of Netherlands and Belgium in Hetalia, but since they don't have one (or not yet) in the anime/manga, I had to invent them !  
I hope everything is clear, it's the first that I write an Hetalia fanfiction ! If one or two things are not totally clear for you, don't hesitate to send me a message with your questions and I'll answer them ! Thank you for reading, R&R please !

**PS** : As I've already said, English is not my mother tongue and I have to translate each chapter from the French fiction I'm writing ( Ceux épris de Liberté FR Version ) one by one.  
So please, please, **please**, excuse me if I do grammar mistakes or spelling or in anything else x_x  
I hope you enjoyed reading it anyway ! =D


	2. Passion fruits

**Louise's POV**

I had always loved hanging around _La Rambla_, that big gathering of artists, artisans, merchants, and knick-knacks salesmen which spread from _la Plaça de Catalunya_ to the old harbor of _Barcelona_. Everything there was only laughs and happy clamors, and walking over the place gave me the real impression of living to Spain's heartbeat. Which was quite a surprising thing, knowing that it wasn't – and would never be – my homeland.

I had woken up early that morning, in order to be one of the first person trotting on the place. My shopping list partially written in French and Dutch between my fingers, I had gone from stand to stand, seeking ingredients for the pastries Antonio would serve tonight.  
I had found everything I needed within fifteen little minutes. However, such a speed had given me consequences as overheated feet in their boots, a bad bellyache, and arms loaded with bags of spices, icings and fresh fruits. And a totally empty wallet.  
I thought of my brother ; he wouldn't be too happy knowing that I had spent all our monthly income of money, and certainly not for Antonio.  
Which was why I intended lying to him.

I walked back home, but more slowly because of the bags which obstructed my vision. I wasn't in a hurry so I hang out excessively, stopping sometimes in front of a shop window or taking a twenty-minutes-break. I was perched on a thick wall this time. I had taken my boots and socks off and, feet waving in the air back and forth and had leaned back on my stretched back arms, eyes glued to the cloudless sky. The pain in my belly vanished.  
I started to think : as far as I remembered, Anthonij had always been a little asocial bully. Stammering when he came to the matter of the heart, he couldn't merely whisper sweet words without going red and being extremely embarrassed. So, many times, he said sentences that were offensive or very rude, and anyone would have felt upset. But Dad and Mom knew their elder son very well, and I knew perfectly my brother's true problem. Our parents used to teach him the same important morals endlessly – at that time, he seemed not paying any attention to it, but, given on how he acts now as an adult, I must believe that he had been a particularly good listener – which tended getting him nervous towards his responsibilities as the elder of the family. But I was always the first one to reassure him.

Then, there had been the Spanish invasion. And everything had changed. Dad, Mom and Luxembourg were dead. Anthonij and I had been brought up in Spain and had to do various chores sometimes – but never too much, as the reason we were in captivity was to embellish Antonio's conqueror image before everything else-. And apart from that, he liked us a lot. After accommodating to his presence, I had never laughed so much but with him. Anyone could tell he liked children. Even though Anthonij was – and still is- distant towards him, Antonio always came back to him, teased him and tried to make him laugh. He did success on some rare occasions.  
We had grown up, me as my complicity with the Spanish, and my brother with his distance. As the time passed by, I had ended up not knowing how to talk to Anthonij anymore.  
And even more when I had fallen in love with Antonio.

* * *

**Anthonij's POV**

I was humming a song. Dunno which one. My father's pipe in the mouth. That's marijuana which's burnin'. And some fuckin' good one !

I was in the kitchen, doing the dishwashing. It was dark outside. I could hear the laughs of the little party Antonio was throwing, just on the other side of the door. Have fun dickhead, while I'm washin' your plates ! I can't stand him. First, for some personal reasons that are quite obvious, and then, because he goes around my sister way too much. And recently, because he has always been _heel dom_.

-_Salut_ !

The door of the kitchen opened on my sister, pushing it with her back, her arms full of bags. I dropped the plate I was washing and hurried towards her to ease her from her charge.

-_Merci _! she sang as passing in front of me.  
-Ya are late, I muttered, the pipe in mouth.  
-Put that there, she ignored me pointing the counter while she put an old apron on and washed her hands.  
-Ya are very late, I repeated, it has been a lon' time since the guests have arrived.  
-I know !  
-What took ya so lon' ?

I got back to my sink and dirty plates while she was making a fuss on her work plan.

-I hang out.  
-_Waar _?  
-_ la__ Plaça de Catalunya_.  
-Since this mornin' ?  
-Yes ! she sighed, quite exasperated, now, tell me, are they far from the dessert or not ?

She showed me the door from which laughs came from with her chin.

-That's alright, they've just finished the starter, calm down, I said, turning my head towards her.

I took off a hand of the water to make it grab the pipe and blew a big cloud of smoke in my sister's face. She jumped with a start and swept the air quickly, muttering.

-Anthonij !  
-What ? That's just marijuana, that's not bad.  
-I know what it _is_, thank you ! she answered dissipating the last clouds from a gesture of the hand.  
-Want some ? I asked, rubbing feebly another plate.  
-No.

She started breaking eggs in a round dish and added butter and flour with the dexterity of people who know what they're doing. She had her eyes glued on her work, and me, on her face.

-You look tense, I said beginning another plate.  
-I'm tired and my body aches from everywhere.  
-Take a hot bath.  
-Maybe tomorrow. I don't have time tonight.  
-Ya are plannin' goin' late to bed ?  
-Yes. You know Antonio; after a party, I'm the one who has to clean up.  
-_Het is dom_.  
-_Wat _?  
-That ya wash after_ each_ party. Alone.  
-Antonio doesn't want you to help me.  
-_En het is heel dom_.  
-It doesn't stop you from disobeying him, though.

She showed me the plate I was washing. I slowly let go of it in the hot and soaped water.

-Ya want me to go ?  
-No, stay. I like to have you by my side when I'm cooking.

I nodded and got back to my dishwashing, exhaling a new marijuana breath. Louise grimaced.

-Anthonij, stop that !  
-Why ? Does the smell bother ya ?  
-Very much, indeed.  
-It has never bothered ya before, why now ?

She said nothing for a moment, her hands mixing mechanically the paste in the round bowl.

-I'm cooking; the ingredients are going to take the drug smell. Antonio won't be happy about it.  
-Good, the saddest he's, the better I'm.  
-Don't say that, she said softly.  
-And _don't_ protect _him_ ! I retorted, surprised.  
-I'm not protecting him. I'm just advising you not to say such cold sentences, she said, irritated.

A silent fell which only lashes, the drop of plates in or out of the water, Antonio's laughs and my inhalations were all we heard. Then, my sister sighed, passing a hand on her forehead. Placing the last dried plate on the pile of clean plates, I turned towards her, and watched her attentively :

-Ya are exhausted. Lemme take care of the after party cleaning, only for tonight.  
-No, that's my chore. You have yours.  
-I'll negotiate with Antonio, I ignored her, as obvious as it is that he appreciates ya, I'm sure he won't say no.

She froze in every of her movements. Even her hands had stopped cooking. She blinked and looked at me, smiling in a bizarre way.

-Anthonij, Antonio doesn't appreciate me ! Gosh, of course not !  
-It's blindingly obvious.  
-You know, he likes you too.  
-Gross ! I spat with disgust.  
-You should be a bit more thankful to him.  
-For what ? For killing both our parents and stealing away our life ? Yeah, sure, thank ya Antonio I guess !

Louise didn't like me screaming, and even less on her. I could see that it made her sad. She looked down and got back to her cooking.

-He has brought us up with love nonetheless. And nothing forced him to do so, she whispered.

I found nothing to add and a cold silence fell. If she wanted to do her chore so badly, it was her problem after all ! I started to tap my fingers nervously on the border of the sink.

-Louise, I have a project, I eventually said.

I waited a moment for her reaction, but she didn't look at me.

-What kind of project ? she weakly asked.  
-A project… that could set us free again.

She raised her head.

-What on earth are you saying ? she exclaimed, eyes wide opened.

The door slammed suddenly, making us turn our head. Lovino stopped in front of us.

* * *

**Lovino's POV**

-Anthonij ! I screamed, smoking your illicit drug again ?  
-Want some ? the fair-haired man asked me, casual.  
-NEVAR ! Don't you know those things mess up with your brain ?  
-So what ? It doesn't stop you from livin', even if ya are a retard; just look at yarself, he smiled, inhaling a new breath.  
-Are you saying I may be stupid ? I said, utterly upset.  
-I'm not sayin' ya _may_ be stupid, I'm sayin' ya _are _stupid.  
-Anthonij, take that back.

It was Louise's voice. I hadn't seen her, hidden behind her brother's massive height. A proud smile came on my face and, adressing myself to the Dutch man, I said :

-You are lucky Louise is there, or else, I would have knocked you out for a long time you bastard !  
-Oh gosh I'm shaking, he said in a half-afraid, half-nagging tone.

I strongly controlled my vivid will of punching him hard in the nose. I calmed down, thinking of Louise ; I knew it would cause her grief if I used violence. And above all, I hadn't come in the kitchen for that.

-Anthonij, Antonio wants you in your quarters.  
-That must be the joke of the year ; he wants me to go into my room now !  
-That's an order, I insisted.  
-I won't go, he retorted.  
-You will !  
-_Sì _!  
_-Nee_.  
-_Sì_ !  
_-Nee_.  
-_Sì_ !  
-Cut it out you two ! You look like children, Louise laughed.

She passed between us, a dish covered with pots where a light paste laid. She turned her head towards her brother.

-_Anthonij, gaat naar boven hebt je niets te doen hier_.  
-_Ik zal niet gaan _!  
-Anthonij.

Louise gave him a black, insisting stare. I don't know what they had said to each other, but in the end, it seemed to work because Anthonjij sighed, turned on his heels and left the kitchen. The door waved quickly and lengthily the air, showing he had pushed it with strength and anger. Meanwhile, Louise had place her dish in the oven and set the temperature. She rubbed her hands on her apron and approached me with a soft smile.

-Don't worry, he's always like that, she said.  
-He's an idiot, I snorted.  
-I know, but you must not blame him. When you understand him, it's truly a lovely person, she assured me.

She yawned while she put one of her hand in front of her mouth and another on her belly. My eyes had stayed on the second one.

-Haven't you still told him ? I asked calmly.  
-No, she answered.  
-And for you and Antonio ?  
-Neither. I'm waiting for the right moment.  
-You know, you should tell him now, before he finds out by himself.

I indicated her belly.

-There's someone who won't wait many months before showing up.  
-I could pretend I put on some weight.  
-Anthonij is not as stupid as I'd like him to be Louise, you know that better than I do. He will maybe be fooled for the first trimester, but then ? Doesn't he already suspect you when you're throwing up or getting tired without any peculiar reason ?

I grabbed her hands and looked at her in the blank of her eyes.

-Let me tell you this as a friend and confident, Louise. Don't wait anymore.  
-I… I don't know, Lovi.

Hearing her saying my nickname as fondly made me shiver.

-And if he gets carried away ? If, in his anger, he …  
-Then I'll be there, I cut her short, to protect you. You, as _il bambino_.

* * *

Ouuuh Louise's pregnant ! x3  
Why's Anthonij smoking drug ? Because he represents Netherlands, and especially the city of Amsterdam in this chapter, which is veeeery liberal on the drug consummation.

PS : Sorry guys it took so long ! But school work is school work right ? Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it see you around for chapters 3 :3  
As always, reviews are much appreciated ! ;D  
But if you don't want to leave one, that's fine !  
Sorry for spelling, grammar... Plus, it's 4 in the morning and I'm still up for you guys ! I had promised a chapter today, and a chapter it shall be !

Vocabulary

• Spanish

_la Plaça de Catalunya _: The Catalans' Place  
_Barcelona _: Barcelona  
_La Rambla _: La Rambla ( famous place of Barcelona )

• Dutch

_heel dom _: silly/stupid/retarded  
_En het is heel dom _: And that's very stupid/silly/retarded  
_Anthonij, gaat naar boven hebt je niets te doen hier _: Anthonij, go upstairs you have nothing to do here.  
_Ik zal niet gaan _! : I won't go !

• French

_Salut ! _: Hi !  
_Merci ! _: Thanks !

• Italien

_il bambino _: the baby/the child


End file.
